


Darkness rises, and light to meet it.

by witchybelle4u2



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi
Genre: Character Death, Death, Developing Relationship, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Not Beta Read, Reylo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-03-18 07:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13677354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchybelle4u2/pseuds/witchybelle4u2
Summary: Rey mourns Leia's death but she's not alone. Not really.





	1. A Light, Extinguished

The problem with the Force, Rey concluded, was the absolute certainty a loved one had passed that hit long before official news of their death arrived. Waiting to hear what you knew to be truth – while at the same time desperately hoping you might be wrong – was a kind of agony that made even Supreme Leader Snoke’s psychic assault pale in comparison.

Rey was in the Falcon’s forward cargo hold, doing battle with a shield generator that had recently decided it liked nothing less than generating shields when a wave of loss struck her. Staggered, the powerful emotion drove her back into a crate of EL-16s that fell to the floor with a _thud_ loud enough to wake-

-the dead.

Arms wrapped around her middle, Rey tried to choke back the scream of rage tryng to escape her as the closest thing she’d ever had to a mother was torn from existence, thousands of lightyears away. Tears burned her eyes and splashed heavily onto the steel floor at her feet.

_Leia…_

Across even greater distance, Rey felt another surge of power. An echo of the first, it dragged across her heart so heavily she was certain it left a permanent groove. The sorrow was so like her own Rey might have thought it _was_ her own, had it not come with an unmistakable howl of despair in a voice she would recognize anywhere.

 _Ben_.

Their pain, so profound words could not convey its depth, drove Rey to her knees. Palms against the cool metal, she fought to sever the tie that connected them. It was a struggle because, although she loathed to admit it, Rey didn’t want to mourn alone. She didn’t want to face this awful, life-changing, mammoth thing all on her own. Didn’t want to bottle it all up inside and pretend to know nothing about what would greet them when they joined back up with what was left of the Rebel fleet.

But she’d made herself a promise.

That day on Crait, as she watched the boarding ramp slide shut on Ben’s stricken expression, Rey told herself she would never again give into the connection between them. She’d done such a good job, too… Rey had sealed her mind up tight against Ben, even though it left a hollow feeling in her chest nothing seemed to fill. When the tentative brush of his mind against hers came in the dead of night, she had learned to slam a mental door against him so hard it left them both feeling bruised.

And, if she cried herself to sleep afterward? As long as no one saw, well, Rey could live with that.

What she couldn’t live with was the look of betrayal on Ben’s face when he had realized Rey could never truly be with him. It had been like looking into the eyes of a child cruelly abandoned by the only companion they had ever known, and it broke her. If Rey had to look into that face, into those eyes, too long or too often…

She didn’t want to think about the weakness curled deep in her soul, begging her to turn to the darkness – to do _anything_ – if it meant standing by Ben’s side once more.

Angry at herself; angry at Ben; angry at any universe that would snuff out the last ray of hope in the galaxy, Rey balled her hands into fists and slammed them down on the cargo bay floor. Pain, blissfully physical, burst to life in her knuckles and raced up her wrists, into her arms. The agony in her hands brought her back to the present. It gave Rey the focus she needed to finally severe the connection with Ben. Or, so she thought.

_Rey?_

She could feel him calling her, desperately reaching out to her across space. Could feel his need – not just for comfort, but for _her_. The child-like fear in his voice nearly destroyed Rey’s resolve. Nearly.

_No!_

Rey brought her fists down against the floor again, giving her desperation voice in a strangled scream that brought Chewie to the cargo bay. The door _wooshed_ open and the Wookiee stuck his head into the room with a rumble of concern.

“I’m okay, Chewie,” Rey lied without looking up. “I- got a zap from a faulty coupling in the generator. We really should replace that useless old thing,” she added fighting back the wave of sadness that struck her when she remembered Han saying the same thing, punctuating each word with a swing of a wrench at the cranky machine.

Was her whole life to be nothing but loss?

Grunting something about old not being the same as useless, Chewie disappeared back into the hallway. Rey didn’t move until the door slid into place behind him. Then, twisting so her back was against the fallen crate, Rey gathered her knees to her chest, buried her face in her hands and let herself cry. Just this once.

The taste of grief was sea and blood, tears mixing with the blood running freely from the shredded flesh at her knuckles. Rey let herself feel all the suffering there hadn’t been time to feel when they lost Han because there had been a battle to fight; when they lost Luke because they had been running for their lives. She released the little girl who had learned to hide the pain of losing her parents because crying was weakness and, in a place like Jakku, weakness meant death.

And, buried beneath it all – running through it all – the pain she couldn’t afford to feel for the man she could never let herself love.

When there was nothing left, Rey picked herself up, cold and empty, and returned to her work. What else could she do?


	2. A Flame, Ignited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben finds an open door.

Supreme Leader Snoke had accused Ben of being nothing more than a child in a mask. Truth be told, it wasn’t so very far from how he felt at that moment. He was like a lost child. Alone. Floundering. Lost and confused.

_You are just a child in a mask._

The remnants of the dark mask he had once worn to remind people just who his grandfather was had been consigned to the trash compactors months ago. He wore a different mask now, a mask of power he hadn’t intended to seize and didn’t have a clue what to do with, now that he had it.

What good was power if you had no one to share it with?

Supreme Leader Snoke would have sneered and said attachments made one weak. His Uncle Luke would have told him that, while once outlawed by the Jedi Code, attachments gave one strength. Ben's attachment to Rey had both helped him defeat Snoke and be defeated himself, so who was right?

As too often happened, Ben’s thoughts drifted to Rey. He’d done it all for her, murdering Snoke and killing his guard, to give Rey the place in the galaxy she deserved – and what had she done with the power Ben stole for her? Thrown it back in his face.

A wave of pure rage washed over Ben. There was a time when he would have let it consume him; would have given into the darkness clawing at the edges of his soul. There was a time when he would have lashed out at anything – everything – nearby. Now, Supreme Leader Ren could make the entire galaxy feel his wrath, if he so chose.

Trouble was, he couldn’t hold on to the anger. It ebbed as swiftly as it came, leaving him exhausted from fighting against the current. As Ben always did at his weakest, more fearful moments, he reached out for Rey... and gasped.

Usually, when Ben sought out Rey’s mind, he found nothing but high walls and steely determination. This time, however, he found an open door. He was jubilant – until he realized why Rey wasn’t fighting him. She hadn’t left the door open in welcome; she was simply too overcome by grief to remember to close it.

He let the strange connection between them pull him forward until found himself surrounded by solemn, tear-stained faces. As he looked around for the one face he longed to see, Ben noted that every one of the few dozen people in attendance wore black.

_Oh._

Ben's attention was drawn to the front of the room where an elegant coffin sat atop a marble plinth. He moved toward it, unable to stop himself.

He’d known, of course. The ripple in the Force when his mother died had woken Ben from a deep slumber with a wail of despair he couldn't silence. Rey had been open to him then, too, though she’d terminated the connection quickly enough when she realized he’d slipped through.

Rey, at least, had the comfort of her friends and fellow rebels. Ben had had to announce the news of Leia’s death to a command room full of people who cheered the news. It had taken every ounce of restraint Ben possessed to refrain from killing every single one of them. He dragged himself to the coffin and looked down.

She was beautiful.

Ben had felt his mother’s presence through the Force a handful of times, but he hadn’t seen her face since the day he left to learn the ways of the Jedi from his uncle. He remembered the look of pride she’d worn that day. His mother had beamed at him as he waved from the window of the shuttle, happy though her eyes were full of tears.

In her coffin, Leia looked every bit the princess she was born. Ben’s heart broke at the sight of her. The weight of loss crushed him, driving him to his knees at the foot of the alter.

_Ben._

Blinking away the tears blinding him, Ben looked up to see Rey standing over him.

 _Oh, Ben_ , she said through the link they shared. Surprisingly, Rey didn't severe the connection. Instead, she knelt by his side.

 _I- I didn’t..._ Did it matter if he’d given the order to end Leia’s life? She died at the hands of a ‘trooper, so the fault was his. Ben might as well have pulled the blaster trigger himself.

 _I know_ , Rey said gently.

Of course she did. Rey could see straight to the heart of him, which meant she could feel the crippling pain that seized him at the sight of his mother’s corpse. This time, when Ben reached out, Rey was there. She wrapped her arms around him, anchored him against the maelstrom of emotion beating at him.

 _It’s okay_ , she told him, even though it wasn’t. Even though nothing would ever be okay again.

He felt Rey’s pain through their bond, but it was muted – a dull ache to his roaring agony. Ben probed her mind and found Rey struggling to keep her own pain at bay. For him.

 _I’m sorry_. It wasn’t good enough, not even close, but it was a start.

 _Me too_ , Rey answered. She reached down to take his hand.

Ben linked his fingers with hers and held on for dear life. Rey. His one-time adversary, his anchor, his spark of hope in the darkness. He knew, then, what he had to do.

He thought he’d stolen the galaxy for Rey but hadn’t understood until that moment that Rey _was_ his galaxy. Ben had to choose. It was no choice at all.

Lifting his red-rimmed eyes to hers, Ben made Rey a promise.

 _I will make this right_ , he promised, not knowing exactly how, where to begin, or if it were even possible. _I can’t kill the past, but I can make us a better future._

Rey was silent. She looked at a loss for words.

Ben leaned forward to steal something even bigger than the galaxy: a single kiss.

With that, Ben severed the connection, throwing up shields hard and fast. He didn’t want to see Rey again until he’d fulfilled his promise. When he had nothing to offer her but himself, Ben would seek Rey out again. Until then, he had an empire to dismantle – and he knew exactly where to start.

He summoned a guard.

“Get me Hux,” Ben barked. “Now.”


End file.
